


Expect the Unexpected

by hopingforaword



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Clubbing, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Living Together, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Mistaken Identity, Not Epilogue Compliant, Powerful Harry, Powerful Harry Potter, Sex, acquaintances to lovers?, after the war, but more like, canon character death, unseen character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopingforaword/pseuds/hopingforaword
Summary: When Draco Malfoy falls out of Harry Potter's fireplace at 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry has no idea what to expect, and deep down, Draco doesn't either.





	1. An Unexpected Arrival

Harry Potter was sitting at his kitchen table, listening to Kreacher tell stories of what Sirius and Regulus had been like as children (he really had opened up to Harry once he was given the locket), chuckling softly, when the fireplace roared to life. The flames turned emerald, and Draco Malfoy stepped out of them. 

Harry and Kreacher both looked at Draco in bewilderment. After the war, Harry had forgiven Draco and Narcissa for their actions during the war, even providing testimony that helped them avoid prison, but the two men certainly weren't on friendly terms. Other than the party Hermione had insisted on throwing at Grimmauld Place at the end of their eighth year, Harry hadn't seen Draco since they left Hogwarts. 

“Can I stay here?” Draco asked into the stunned silence. 

“Pardon me?”

“My father kicked me out. I need somewhere to stay for a day or two while I figure out how to fix my life.”

Harry looked at Kreacher, who seemed to have realized Draco was also in the family, and had sprung to his feet. “Uh, yeah,” Harry said, looking back at Draco. “Yeah. Kreacher? Can you take Malfoy’s bags up to the room next to mine and make that room… habitable?”

Kreacher jumped forward to grab Draco’s two sleek suitcases and disappeared with a crack. 

“So,” Harry said, staring at Malfoy, who was still standing just outside Harry’s fireplace, “What ha—”

“Morning,” Draco said, “It’s late, and all I want is some Firewhiskey before I sleep. As you can imagine, Potter, it's been a long day for me.”

Harry glanced at the clock. He hadn't noticed how late it was, but it was nearing midnight. He summoned a Butterbeer for himself and a bottle of Firewhiskey and a glass for Draco. The boys drank in silence until Draco said, “You live here alone?”

“Usually, yeah. Kreacher keeps two rooms ready for Ron and Hermione if they ever want to stay over, but they have their own lives. So it's mostly just me.”

“Big house for one person.”

Harry shrugged. “It's what I've got. Closest thing I have to home.”

They didn't speak again until Kreacher appeared in the room. “The guest room is ready for Master Malfoy. Is there anything else you masters will require tonight?”

“Thank you Kreacher, that's it. You can head off to bed if you wish. Breakfast at 7?”

Kreacher nodded and scurried off to his bed while Harry gestured for Malfoy to follow him. 

“You're nice to your house elves?”

“House  _ elf.  _ Singular. And yeah, I try. Last time we were mean to him, my godfather died.”

Draco didn’t know what to say to that, so he followed silently as Harry led him up the stairs. They stopped after three flights, and Draco looked at the three doors facing them. 

“Bathroom,” Harry said, pointing to the one on the far right, “My room,” the one on the far left, “Your room,” the room in the middle. Draco nodded. “If you need anything, you can ask. I don’t sleep too well anyways.” Harry blushed and looked away, fidgeting as if he hadn’t meant to tell Draco that. 

“Thanks,” Draco said, staring at the door. “Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Harry disappeared into his room and Draco slowly opened the door to his.

Either the Blacks had decorated very well, or Kreacher had fixed up the room very nicely for Draco, or perhaps even a little of both. There were no portraits (which Draco couldn’t help but be thankful for), his clothes were neatly folded on top of a dresser, the bed was draped in elegant green silk, and all the furniture was the same dark wood. Draco wondered whose room it had been before the war, but he was too tired to continue thinking. It had been a mentally and physically exhausting day. He peeled off his clothes, dropping them in piles next to the bed, not caring the way he usually did. Surely Kreacher could neaten them for him if he so wished. 

Draco climbed into the bed in his boxers and flicked his wand, making the room go dark. He sat there under the silk sheets, wondering if it had been wise to come to Harry Potter, the boy he’d had a crush on since they were thirteen. He couldn’t think of anything but Harry lying on his bed in the next room, trying to puzzle through why Draco could possibly be there, at his house on Grimmauld Place. Draco shook his head and turned onto his side, resolutely trying to think about anything but Harry Potter.

One room over, Harry was not having a much better time falling asleep. All he could see behind his eyelids was Draco stepping out of his fireplace, black suit contrasting his pale skin and light blue tie making his gray eyes pop. Harry blinked and shook his head, trying to clear it. He needed sleep. The faster he got to sleep, the sooner he could get answers out of Draco. And if Harry needed anything right now, it was answers from Draco Malfoy as to why on earth he was in Harry’s house.


	2. A Surprising Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day because sometimes you just get going and can't stop. here it is

Draco tried not to wake Harry when he crept to the bathroom at seven the next morning, but the floorboards squeaked with every step he took. It was therefore no surprise to him when he left the bathroom and saw Harry leaning against his bedroom door, hair even messier than usual, which Draco had previously thought impossible. He almost smiled at Harry’s little yawn, but forced his face into a mask of apathy.

“Sleep well?” Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. “Better than the streets or an inn.”

“So,” Harry said, “Why here?”

“Can I explain after I’ve gotten dressed?” Draco wasn’t sure if the blush on Harry’s face was real or imagined. 

“Uh, yeah,” Harry said. “Think you can find your way to the sitting room or you want me to lead you?”

“I’m sure I can find it,” Draco snapped, rushing back into the bedroom. He slipped on black trousers and a gray button down shirt before struggling to flatten his hair. He wondered if maybe his hair was affected by the household he was in. At home, what his home used to be at least, everyone’s hair was sleek and well-kept, like everything else about the Malfoys. But here, in Harry’s house, his hair more closely resembled that of the black haired boy one room over. Draco gave up, sweeping down the stairs until he reached the sitting room on the first floor. Harry was already sitting there, wearing gray sweatpants and a dark t-shirt from some Muggle band Draco was sure he had heard blaring in the halls of Hogwarts at least once over the years.

“So, you want the truth?” Draco said abruptly, sitting across from Harry on the opposite couch. Harry nodded, and Draco took a deep breath.

“My father went to jail, as you know, and I visited him most weeks. Every visit he needled me about whether I’d been out with any girls, if I’d found anyone respectable that I was interested in, if I’d be giving him a heir anytime soon. This week I finally lost it. I told him the truth. I admit I could’ve told him better. I probably shouldn’t have shouted at him, but I digress.” Draco sucked in a deep breath. “I’m gay. And my father didn’t take it very well. He’s still the Master of the Manor, so when he disinherited me, it was magically binding. My mother packed up my things in those two suitcases and brought them to me, but I can’t go anywhere near the property anymore. My father basically burned me off the family tree.” Harry chuckled, thinking of the family tree in the drawing room with the literal burn marks.

“Well, you’re still on the Black family tree here, and as I’m the keeper now, I won’t be burning you off for something as little as being gay. But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

Draco looked at him as if he was explaining something very simple to someone stupid. “Pansy and Blaise are too busy fucking to have time or space for me in their flat, no one else in Slytherin knows or would be okay with it, and of all the gay Gryffindors, you seemed like the least likely to kick me out, what with all your heroism and valor.” Draco scoffed at the words, and Harry cracked a smile. 

“Well it’s good to see that nothing’s changed since school.” Draco smirked. “But I’m not gay Draco. I’m bisexual.”

“Oh. Okay.” Harry swore that Draco had deflated when he said he wasn’t gay but saw him readjust himself at bisexual. 

“How long do you think you'll need to stay here?”

“Well I wouldn't want to impose on you—”

“How long do you need to stay Draco?”

Harry's use of his first name made Draco's heart pound faster than Harry saying he was bisexual. “I'm not sure.”

“You can stay here as long as you like.”

“Master Potter, Master Malfoy?” Kreacher said from the doorway. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you Kreacher. Did you find the shopping list I left out?”

“Yes sir. I will head out right now to get your things.”

“Do you need anything Draco?”

Draco shook his head. “I mean, so long as you have more Firewhiskey and good, I'll be fine.”

Harry arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything to Draco, instead turning to Kreacher and saying, “That's it Kreacher. Thanks.” Kreacher Disapparated with a crack and Harry led Draco back to the kitchen. 

After they finished breakfast, Harry looked up at Draco. “So Pansy and Blaise?”

Draco laughed a little. “Yeah. We all lived together for a little while after school but my mother needed me. I needed to be there for her. Then I guess when I left they realized they're both young and hot so,” he shrugged, as if that told the whole story. 

“I always thought there was something going on with you and Pansy, but I guess not.”

“Nah, just me and Blaise. Slytherins are a lot more ‘out there’ than the other houses think.” Harry laughed. “What about you and Granger? Always thought you and Weasley would tear each other apart in a fight over her seventh year.” Harry raised an eyebrow and bit his lip, staring distantly into the table. “You did sleep with her! Don't lie to me Harry.”

Harry exhaled. “I mean, Ron left us alone.  _ He  _ left. We were two seventeen year olds hunting the country for Horcruxes, all alone for weeks.” He looked up at Draco’s arched eyebrow and pronounced smirk. “Oh fuck off. I'm not proud of it. And now she and Ron are together and I don't know if she even told him so…” 

“So you just told me a secret Harry? Trust me that much already?”

“I mean, if we’re going to be living together.”

“You work?”

Harry shrugged. “Kind of. I do consultations with the Minister and the Aurors, sometimes I get paid for interviews, but mostly just entertaining myself.”

Draco looked at him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Harry Potter was almost as sad and lonely as he was himself. 

They went upstairs, Harry slipping into a library and Draco following him. Harry pulled down a copy of  _ Quidditch Through the Ages _ and gestured vaguely around the room before sitting in a well worn armchair. Draco assumed Harry’s vague gesture meant he could peruse the shelves. He found a potions book and pulled it down, having always had a soft spot for potions. Draco flicked his wand, and a chair appeared for him to collapse into.

_ Quidditch Through the Ages _ was the only book Harry would ever say he truly got lost in, so when soft whimpers broke through the silence of the house, he looked up in surprise. Draco was curled up, hugging a book against his chest and tears silently streaming down his face. 

“Draco?”

“My grandfather and I used to make potions together. Well, really, I would watch and he would talk to me. Just stuff I thought was kind of nonsense but it was all pureblood shit I guess. I-I-”

Harry put his book down and stood up, walking over to stand next to Draco. “What’s wrong?”

“Purebloods are very disdainful of homosexuality. Because your duty as a pureblood child is to provide your family tree with a pureblood heir. But obviously, most gay couples have to adopt. So I’m betraying everything I was brought up with. Centuries of Malfoys, and the line is going to end with me. I’m the fuck up Malfoy. And just because I like fucking blokes.”

Curled up, knees hugged against his chest, Draco looked smaller than Harry could've ever imagined. Harry didn't know what to say, so he gently sat down next to Draco and put a hand on the blonde boy's back. Draco sniffled and tangled his fingers with Harry's. 

“You know you could move in like permanently right? Like, I wouldn’t mind. I’d actually rather enjoy it.”

“You’re just saying that,” Draco whispered through sniffles. “I’ll leave Harry, I’ll find somewhere to stay, I don’t mean to impose–”

“Cut it out. Accept the offer. Get over your fear of being seen as ‘less than’ or whatever. Technically, you’re a more legitimate heir to this place than me, so stop pitying yourself and accept the kindness.” 

Draco squeezed Harry’s fingers and whispered, “Thank you.”


	3. An Interesting Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was late! Sometimes life just explodes, but I hope the length semi-made up for it.

A week passed. Kreacher cooked and cleaned and told Harry stories (Draco listened more than he liked to admit). Harry popped out occasionally for a meeting and Draco read the newspapers every day, waiting for the  _ Prophet _ to report that he had been disowned. The headlines didn’t appear, but he also didn’t hear anything from his friends. He supposed Pansy and Blaise would still be sending letters to the Manor.

It was Saturday morning, and Draco had finally decided to write his mother a letter, just to check in on her and get his letters forwarded. He was halfway through the letter when he heard a strange noise from downstairs, like a bunch of people cheering quietly.

Draco walked downstairs, following the noise, until he found Harry sitting in a chair facing a box. “What are you doing?”

“Watching football on the television.” Before Draco could ask Harry said, “Football is a Muggle sport, kind of like Quidditch with just a Quaffle on the ground and nets instead of hoops. A television is another Muggle thing, a box with a screen that shows moving pictures with color and sound.”

“Don’t you need electricity for that?” Harry raised his eyebrows and Draco looked back at him. “I know some things.”

“Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes sends me their test products sometimes. From what I hear, this one was a hit with the Minister and his support staff. A television that doesn’t interfere with magic. ‘Invaluable,’ I believe Kingsley said.”

“Those twins did have some great ideas I suppose,” Draco said, sitting down next to Harry, “Magnificent magic. Drove me crazy.”

“It’s, uh,” Harry cleared his throat and turned away from Draco. He swallowed hard and said, “It’s Ron and George now, actually. Fred...um…” Draco heard Harry sniffle.

“He died?” Draco whispered.

“Yeah he was talking to Percy and me and Ron and George and––and there was this huge explosion and he was just... gone.” 

“You saw him die?” Draco was certain if his voice got any quieter Harry wouldn’t be able to hear him.

“Yeah. It was… awful. It’s not as disturbing when it’s older people, or they die bleeding or screaming or something but he was just smiling.  _ Laughing _ . Fred Weasley died  _ laughing _ .” Harry trailed off, then started, remembering something. “Sometimes when I go to the Burrow for dinner, George will be laughing and he’ll turn to his side to say something and it’ll be me or Percy or Charlie and he just deflates. He’s aged twenty years in the span of four.” He sniffled again before he said, “I wish I’d saved him.”

“How? You were one man against an entire army Harry.” There was silence. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

“He was looking for me, Draco. If I’d just turned myself over–”

“People didn’t  _ have _ to fight. You didn’t make them fight. The war wasn’t your fault. If not for you, the Dark Lord would still probably be in power. People like Fred gave their lives into your army, onto your side because they believed in you. Because they knew that if they died, it wouldn’t be in vain.”

“But they  _ didn’t _ have to die.”

“You can’t save everyone! It was war, not a fucking Quidditch game! Everyone has their part to play in a war, and for some people that part is dying. It sucks, and it’s stupid, and we wish we could save everyone but you  _ can’t. _ You just  _ can’t. _ ” Draco was fuming. How dare Harry blame himself? The Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, the man who saved all of wizarding kind from an insane genocidal dictator blamed himself for the war? Unacceptable. Draco stood up, still fuming. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

“What?” 

“Go out, like go dancing. Meet people at a club, blow off some steam.”

Draco lost hope at Harry’s blank stare, and turned away. Softly he heard, “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

 

Draco changed into his club clothes: dark skinny jeans, a tight dark v neck, and black sneakers. He slicked his hair back and stepped out of his room. Harry was standing there waiting for him, and Draco’s breath caught in his throat. 

Harry was wearing contacts. His hair was still wild, but as neat as Draco had ever seen it. His clothes, unlike anything else Harry wore,  _ fit _ him. His t shirt was the same color as his eyes, and his jeans looked painfully tight. Draco blinked and looked away.

“Ready?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded. “I have a place in mind. Trust me?”

Harry took Draco’s arm, and they Apparated to the outside of a Muggle night club Draco had spent lots of time in after school.

Harry’s heart skipped. He had come to this club several times after Hogwarts, especially when he was trying to find men to mess around with. His blood rushed with the thought that he could’ve run into Draco here weeks ago. They went inside and walked up to the bar. 

“How’d you find this place?”

Draco looked away, focusing on something beyond the bar, “I used to come here to pull. Like right after Hogwarts.”

The bartender turned around. “Ah, Drake, the usual? And you know Harry here? Small world, huh?”

Draco turned to face Harry, raising an eyebrow. Harry blushed but shrugged. “Muggles don’t know who I am. I know that’s it’s not just some fame thing.”

“Ah yes, because random Muggles thinking you’re hot and wanting to jump on you is better than wizards wanting to sleep with the great Harry Potter?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it is.”

The bartender brought their drinks, and Draco raised his.  “To new friends.”

“To new friends,” Harry echoed, clinking his glass against Draco’s before drinking. “I’m glad you dragged me out here tonight. I don’t go out as much as I used to.”

“Why not?”

Harry laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, right after the war I would get smashed, just totally obliterated, and go home with someone every night. I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts. I’d show up to afternoon meetings with the Minister on Wednesdays hungover. Well, he finally had enough and called Hermione, who made me go to this Mind Healer. It helped more than I thought it would.”

Draco shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with getting obliterated or pulling.”

“I know. But every night was an issue. What about you?” He pointed his glass at Draco before taking a drink. “How did the Malfoy heir deal with the end of the war?”

“Similarly. But I was getting drunk to avoid admitting to myself that I liked guys. I kept telling myself a drunken mistake didn’t mean anything. At some point I remembered what my mother would say when we’d fight about something one of us said drunk. ‘In vinum veritas.’” Draco sighed. “So I started hooking up with guys sober and eventually told my father and, well, you know the rest.”

Harry nodded, finishing his drink. “I’m going to dance. Join me?”

Draco’s heart clenched, but he knew Harry was asking to be kind. He shook his head. “I’m going to finish my drink. What’s the policy on bringing people back to the house?”

Harry smiled, trying to make it seem genuine. “I won’t say anything if you don’t.” He disappeared into the crowd and Draco watched him go. Draco’s smile faded and he ordered another drink. 

Two drinks later, Draco felt brave enough to dance. Harry, gorgeous and sweet as he was, had probably found someone already, and Draco wanted to think about anything else. He took a few steps into the crowd and smiled at the appreciative looks he got. Here, no one knew who he used to be. He wasn’t the villain he was in the wizarding world. He was just Drake, the gorgeous platinum blonde with a sharp tongue and a love of green eyed men. 

Draco felt hands on his waist and he glanced over his shoulder, smiling at the gorgeous man behind him. He faced forward again, backing into the new guy, gently gyrating his hips. 

“You’re gorgeous,” the voice behind him said. 

“I know,” Draco said, smirking. The man laughed, and Draco grinned. “You’re not so bad looking yourself.”

The man chuckled again and leaned forward, whispering in Draco’s ear, “And you haven’t even seen me naked yet.”

Draco groaned. It had really been so long since he’d gone out and just gotten fucked. He pushed his ass against the other man’s crotch and let out another low groan at the hard length he felt. He couldn’t wait to get this man out of the club and into his bedroom. He didn’t care if Harry next door listened. “Harry,” he mumbled. 

“What?” the  man behind him asked, pulling Draco flat against his chest. 

“Nothing. You just remind me of my roommate. He’s really pretty. I don’t think he likes me very much. I think he’s nice just to be nice, not because we’re friends or he likes me.” Draco sighed as the man behind him stiffened. 

“Draco?”

“Hmm?” Draco tried to resume his grinding, but his partner held his hips still. 

“Draco.” He was turned around and Draco came face to face with his mystery man. A shock akin to sobering potion went through him as Draco realized he was standing facing Harry Potter. His skin glistened with sweat, and Draco wanted to lick him until those green eyes turned black, but Harry’s furrowed brow stopped him. “Let’s get out of here.” Harry tugged Draco briskly off the dance floor, much to the disappointment of the members of the crowd who wanted both of them. 

“You know, that’s not usually how men say that to me.”

“It’s not funny, Draco.” Harry led Draco to a secluded alley around the corner from the club, and with a pop, they Disapparated. 

Harry dropped Draco’s hand as soon as he landed in the sitting room of 12 Grimmauld Place. He collapsed on a couch, hands over his face. Draco watched him run his fingers through his hair. 

“What’s the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter with me?” Harry shouted. “What’s the matter with you, Draco?”

“What the hell did I do?”

Harry rose to his feet. “‘You just remind me of my roommate. He’s really pretty.’ What are you playing at, Draco?” 

Draco blushed at the accuracy of Harry’s imitation of his drunk voice, trying to process what Harry was saying, his mind still hazy. “I complimented you. I don’t see the fucking issue!”

“You didn’t know it was  _ me _ , that’s the issue! You thought I was someone else!”

“Someone else who I wanted to be you, you ignorant toad. What better compliment can you get?”

Harry seemed at a loss for what to say for a second. “Well, what if we’d gone home together? If you didn’t know it was me, wouldn’t that be wrong?”

Draco scoffed. “First of all, I don’t know the first names of half the men I’ve pulled. Second of all, I got a glance of you in a dark club. Don’t you think I would’ve realized when we got outside, or when you brought me here?”

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. He ran his fingers through his hair in a maddeningly sexy way, and Draco resisted the urge to close the distance between the two of them and kiss Harry. 

“So you weren’t kidding?”

“Didn’t you listen to the wise words of Narcissa Malfoy? ‘In vinum veritas.’” 

Harry stepped closer and softly said, “You really thought I was being nice just to be nice?” Draco nodded, and Harry laughed quietly. “Draco, who asks to dance at a club just to be nice?”

Draco shrugged. “You Gryffindors are like a pile of puppies. I just thought… I don’t know. I didn’t think it could be anything else.” He paused, and looked Harry in the eye. “Could it be something else?”

Harry smiled, the brightness of his green eyes without glasses obstructing them almost blinding. “I think we should try something else.”

Draco kissed Harry, gently, the way he’d never kissed anyone before. “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you wanted to kiss me?”

“Probably a while. But I’ve only known what it was since that party Hermione threw here.”

“Three years,” Draco laughed, “Nothing on my seven, Potter.”

“Harry.”

“Harry.” Draco savored the sound of the name in his voice. “I’ve wanted to be friends with you since we were eleven, and then I wanted to destroy you, and then when you beat the dragon I wanted to kiss and destroy you. It was confusing,” he smiled at Harry, pressing a quick kiss to his nose, “but worth it.” Draco kissed Harry again, pulling them together, and moved his hand to grab Harry’s ass, but Harry grabbed his wrist. 

“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way.”

Draco whined. “Does that mean some over-romantic period of time that we must spend together before we sleep together in the most vanilla way possible, followed by declarations of undying love?”

Harry looked aghast. “I said my way, not the eighteenth century way. I’m still twenty-one, and looking at one of the most gorgeous men in Wizarding Britain, probably  _ the _ most gorgeous. I just have to set the right tone. Passion is important, but so is love, Draco.” Harry swept in, kissing Draco gently but passionately, and a quiet groan escaped the back of Draco’s throat. When Harry pulled back, Draco was smiling. 

“Take me to bed, Harry.”

“Gladly,” Harry replied, smirking, before leading Draco to his bedroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “In vinum veritas” “in wine, truth”  
> Next chapter (possibly second to last) December 13th


	4. Follow Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they have sex in this chapter! if that's not your jam I understand, and the remaining two chapters will not be sex

Harry followed Draco into Harry’s room and shut the door.

“So,” Draco drawled, “this is where the Savior of the Wizarding World brings his conquests?” He stepped forward, trapping Harry against the door. 

“Yeah,” Harry whispered, “and now you’re here.”

Draco raised an eyebrow and smiled. “So I am. Are you going to conquer me, Mr. Potter?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m going to fuck you, but I can never conquer you, Draco.” In a swift moment he turned around and pressed Draco against the door with a kiss. It was languid, Harry’s tongue exploring Draco’s mouth gently and slowly. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and kissed him back just as leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world to keep kissing. Harry pulled Draco’s shirt off, and Draco vanished Harry’s. “Really?”

Draco shrugged and grinned playfully. “I’m a spoiled only child. I don’t like being kept waiting.”

“Then let’s get going, shall we?” Draco swooned as Harry picked him up and put him down on the cushy mattress. 

“Strong,” Draco whispered. Harry chuckled and kicked off his own shoes, socks, and pants before kneeling on the floor. He carefully unlaced Draco’s shoes and slipped them off his feet. He pulled Draco’s socks off with the same gentleness, planting a kiss on top of each foot. “You’re weird, aren’t you Harry?”

“Probably,” he said, sliding up the bed and kissing Draco, “But you like me anyway, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Draco whispered as Harry kissed down his torso and began undoing the fastening of his jeans, “Yes, I do.” 

Harry smiled up at Draco as he pulled Draco’s pants off. He moved back up the mattress and laid down next to Draco, looking in his eyes and smiling. “Hi.”

“Hi there,” Draco laughed.

“You have beautiful eyes.”

“So we’re really doing this.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “We don’t have to, Draco. We can just sleep, together or apart, or we can make out, or we can–”

Draco kissed Harry softly. “Relax, Harry. I want to do this. I’m just… overwhelmed. I never expected this to be a reality, you know?”

Harry kissed Draco back, rolling over him. “Me neither. But it is now. And we should take full advantage of it.” Harry rolled his hips into Draco’s and smirked at the groan Draco released at the pressure of Harry’s erection against his. “How do you want this?”

Draco sat up and whispered, “Fuck me,” in Harry’s ear. 

Harry smiled. “Gladly.” He vanished both of their boxers with a smile and silently summoned a bottle of lube out of his bedside table. 

“Fuck,” Draco whispered, “I love when you show off like that.” He arched up as one finger teased his hole. “Please, Harry.” Harry’s finger pushed forward and Draco gasped. “Just do it. Fuck me.” At the worried look on Harry’s face, Draco kissed him passionately. “I can take it.”

Harry lined himself up and pushed into Draco in one fluid motion. Draco arched toward Harry, moaning softly. “Fuck, Draco,” he whispered reverently.

“Yeah, that’s the idea. Fuck Draco,” Draco sighed. Harry began thrusting slowly, pulling all the way out and pushing back in, setting Draco’s insides on fire. “Shit,” Draco whispered, “Faster. Shit. Fuck.” Harry obeyed, thrusting faster and deeper, beginning to lose control as he pounded into Draco, the old bed creaking slightly. He wrapped a hand around Draco’s cock, stroking in time to his thrusts, until Draco arched his back and came with a sigh. “Come inside me, Harry,” Draco whispered, and Harry did. He collapsed onto the mattress, vanishing the mess with a flick of his hand and pulling the sheets up over them. “You probably want to talk, don’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Harry asked, pushing the hair out of Draco’s face and smiling at him.

“I assumed that as a Gryffindor you would want to talk about how our relationship has been moving too fast but you care about me a lot and don’t want to lose me.”

Harry smiled. “Kind of. I wanted to tell you that usually I would think this is all happening too fast with our past and everything, but since you’ve moved in we’ve gotten very close in a very short amount of time. I trust you completely, and the feelings I have for you are very,”  he took a breath and thought about his next word, “intense. And that’s a little scary, but I trust you.” He flashed Draco a smile. “Good enough for you?”

“Yeah,” Draco said breathlessly, “and ditto. I feel the same way.”

“So can we get some sleep?” Draco nodded and Harry pulled him against his chest, holding Draco tightly as he drifted to sleep.


	5. An Awkward Lunch

“So, how do you like living here, Mal– Draco?” Ron asked. Draco’s bouncing leg rubbed against Harry’s as it moved, so Harry placed his hand on Draco’s knee under the table. Harry felt Hermione’s already inquisitive look grow more scrutinizing and his cheeks burned.

“It’s fine. Better than with my mother at home.”

Ron nodded as he finished his fourth sandwich. Through the mostly silent lunch, Draco had barely touched his own. Hard as he might be trying, he couldn’t relax. When Harry had informed him that Ron and Hermione were coming for lunch, Draco had laughed at his own mental image of a snake being watched by three lions, each ready to pounce at the slightest movement, but now he was regretting laughing. Harry’s thumb reassuringly stroked the inside of his knee, and Draco couldn’t help but shiver slightly at the touch. Hermione’s laser focus moved from Harry to Draco and Draco shuddered at the scrutiny he felt.

Harry cleared his throat. “I’m gonna get started on the dishes.” He grabbed the plates and stood up. Hermione got to her feet too.

“I’ll help.” She grabbed the cups and marched off to the sink. Harry, looking confused, followed her. 

Ron looked at Draco and cleared his throat. “Do you smoke Draco?”

Draco shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Ron stood up. “I’m going to have a smoke.” He walked out of the kitchen, towards the balcony, and Draco followed him. Harry watched them go.

“So what’s it like having Malfoy here?”

“Draco,” Harry said automatically. “And it’s different. I like not being alone. I think we’re… good for each other.”

Hermione made a noise of agreement and continued washing the dishes. Harry rinsed while Hermione scrubbed, until the sponge Hermione was using slipped and hit Harry’s shirt. “I’m sorry, Harry!”

“It’s no big deal, Hermione. I’ll just dry it.” He pulled out his wand.

“No, you hate the way magically dried fabric feels. I’ll go grab you a shirt.” She raced up the stairs and Harry shook his head as he continued to rinse the dishes. Hermione bounded back down the stairs and handed Harry a fresh t-shirt. Harry took his old one off but before he could get redressed Hermione shouted, “That’s a hickey! I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Ron asked from the doorway.

Hermione pointed at Draco and Harry and said, “They’re shagging!”

Ron looked from Harry, shirtless and bright red, to Draco, paler than he’d ever seen him, back to Hermione and shrugged. “Yeah, and?”

“You knew?” Hermione yelled. 

“It’s not that hard to figure out, really. Harry’s been less stressed for the past two weeks, so I knew he was shagging someone. He hadn’t gone out with anyone or to the bar to pull, so it had to be someone he was seeing regularly. Nobody else seemed to know who it was, so when Harry said Draco was living here,” Ron shrugged again, “They look so natural around each other. It makes weird sense.”

Hermione looked at him, open-mouthed. “I don’t know if I want to hit you because you didn’t tell me this theory or if I want to shag you because that was brilliant.”

“You’re not mad?” Draco asked quietly from the doorway.

“At you?” Hermione asked. “Of course not. Harry seems incredibly happy. I’m mad at Harry,” she said, rounding on the still shirtless man behind her, “because he didn’t bother to tell me, but we can talk about that later.”

“Yeah, I believe I was promised a shag,” Ron said with a grin.

“Or a slap,” Hermione retorted, but she smiled softly, “Let’s get out of here. Bye Draco. Bye Harry.” She Disapparated with a crack. Ron waved and followed her.

Draco started laughing, and Harry did too. “That was bloody ridiculous,” Harry finally said after they started wheezing.

“Yeah, but it’s over,” Draco smiled and walked over to Harry, “And you’re already half-naked, so we can get busy faster.”

Harry grinned. “Maybe I should hide things from Hermione and Ron more often.”

“Shh,” Draco said, “Don’t talk about Hermione and Ron while I’m trying to get laid, that kills the whole mood.”

“Oh, so it’s not a turn on that they’re shagging right now?”

Draco retched. “Congratulations, Harry. You may have just made my dick detach from my body.”

“Can I make it up to you by carrying you to the sitting room and eating your arse?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I suppose you could.” In one fluid motion, Harry swept Draco off his feet and Draco began laughing as Harry headed for the sitting room.


	6. An Odd Decision

Harry and Draco were sitting in comfortable silence in the uppermost of Grimmauld Place’s three sitting rooms, Harry reading the  _ Prophet _ and Draco pouring over more old Potions books he had found in the libraries. “Hogwarts attendance is up by six percent compared to before the war. I guess it’s a much less dangerous place without Tom constantly trying to kill me.”

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” Harry folded the paper over and looked at Draco, who was staring back at him, eyes wide and cheeks red, but unblinking. When Draco didn’t say anything, Harry said again, “What?”

“I believe I asked if you would marry me, and then a small portion of my soul died.” Draco stood up, brushing off his pants, cheeks still scarlet. “I believe I’m going to go have a breath of fresh air on the balcony.” He turned to the door but was cut off by Harry moving faster than Draco had ever seen him.

“Yes.”

“Yes fresh air?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Draco stared so long at Harry he thought his eyes would dry and he would never be able to see again. “Yes?”

“Yes.” Harry pulled Draco into a hard kiss, a kiss that Draco could feel promised so much more. Draco wound his arms around Harry’s neck and hopped up, wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist. Harry pulled Draco infinitesimally closer and Draco pulled away resting his forehead against Harry’s.

“Why?”

“Why? Because you make my life exciting. I have never felt as alive or as young as I do when we’re together. You walk into a room and my heart starts pounding. I feel electricity in the space between us. Any second I don’t have my hands on you feels like a second wasted.”

Draco smiled. “We don’t have to get married immediately.”

“Of course not. We can have a long engagement.” Harry smiled. “Besides, it’s going to take at least two years for Molly and Narcissa to agree on any part of the wedding.”

“It has to be at the Manor.”

“Yes, dear,” Harry said with a smirk. 

“Fuck you.”

“Sure.”

Draco smiled. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Harry carried Draco to the master bedroom, which had quickly become their room, in the house that no longer felt so empty.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm available for talking, prompts, questions, and general weirdness/screaming at [darkmindbrightspirit.tumblr.com](http://darkmindbrightspirit.tumblr.com) or my Harry Potter side blog [hermionejeangranger.tumblr.com](http://hermionejeangranger.tumblr.com)


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